


I Only Ever Touch You When You're Bleeding

by StarkWhiteSilence



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Blood, Eventual Smut, Eyeball Consumption, Fighting, Flesh Consumption, Gore, M/M, Original Character(s), clean up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 20:32:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3950767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkWhiteSilence/pseuds/StarkWhiteSilence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teenage and angry, Yomo fights whoever gets in his way. Friend or foe, he will strike down anyone threatening his revenge. Uta, teenage and crazy, enjoys poking fun at the angst filled giant even when it could leave him with a bit more than a few bumps and bruises. But the more they fight the more they both realize they enjoy more than they'll ever admit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Only Ever Touch You When You're Bleeding

**Author's Note:**

> Wow that was a shitty summary. I keep editing and reediting this and I'm afraid if I do anymore it will spontaneously turn into Ancient Greek. Anyways back again with this gem, deciding on whether or not i will keep it going. If you guys actually like it tell me through comments or kudos. Thanks for reading as always and go check out my Starfighter fic that I will be updating!

_Kagune: Weapons/Appendages that are apart of a Ghouls body, the only thing that can pierce a Ghoul’s skin._

_Kakugan (Shining Eye): It is when a Ghoul’s eye changes. The iris turns red while the sclera turns black. This can be initiated by a Ghoul by their own will, when they get excited, extremely hungry, or when they use their Kagune._

* * *

 

“Really, I thought the leader of the 4th would be a better opponent and not such a pussy!” The young ghoul yelled as he crossed his arms over his torso. Yomo spit a large clump of blood onto damp concrete as more blood gushes from his middle.

“I was wounded and eating, you attacked me from behind. You're nothing more than scum that is too much of a bitch to fight me when it is on an even plain.” Yomo said his face blank despite the immense amount of pain radiating from the gaping hole in his stomach. His watched as the boy threw his head back and laughed.

He had been eating, his body hunched over the young girls corpse when the ghoul had snuck behind him. Not even 20 minutes before he snatched the young girl form the streets had he been in another fight with the leader of the 6th ward. He had been trying to take Yomo’s position for years, and he had decided tonight was the night he would move in. The battle had been ruthless and bloody, and Yomo ended with deep cuts and gauges from his body. But in hindsight he had faired way better than his opponent seeing as he was missing his head and laying dead in the warehouse where it had taken place.

“I think you're mad because big bad Yomo is gushing blood in an alleyway, about to be defeated by a guy half his size. Not to mention your precious 4th ward will be mine in a matter of minutes I think my first order of business will be to take out your little friends. What were they again? Oh yeah, the one with the tatts and the hot red head. Eh, maybe I’ll keep her though, since those tits are ripe for the picking if you know what I mean.” The kid boasts as his Kagune waves around behind him, its iridescent blue color almost glowing in the dark alley. His own blood covered one of the tentacle like arms. Yomo gritted his teeth and growled as he lunged forward, his legs a blur as his own Kagune unfurls behind him. The kid’s red eyes grow big before he widens his stance. Yomo watches him try and prepare for the attack, his ghoul eyes nothing more than black slits as he hones in on the boys open spots.

With movements too quick for the naked eyes to see, Yomo sent a series of quick jabs at the him, each one taking a chunk of the boys flesh from his body. The boy wailed before flipping back ten feet and landing in a broken crouch. Yomo watched as the boy’s chest worked up and down in an attempt to draw air back into his lungs. Fresh blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth and his black eyes watered in pained tears.

“Shit!” The ghoul cursed, his shoulders stiff as he tries to regain his footing. Yomo would be smirking right now if his vision was waving in and out from the amount of blood pouring from his body. He knew if he didn’t end this fight now, he wouldn’t last much longer. Clenching his teeth, Yomo shifted back like loading a shotgun before vaulting forward with his pitch black Kagune, the city lights reflecting of its inky surface.

The sharp spikes of Yomo’s Kagune disappear into the boy’s hip and left shoulder. They both twist sharply, ripping the holes larger and allowing more the boys crimson blood to pour from the wounds. Yomo smiles around his own blood as he yanks the appendages out allowing the boy fall. For a split second, Yomo decides it’s over until he felt it. Like a fiery spoke, the boy’s Kagune shots through Yomo’s thigh, his femur demolished and replaced the with the boy’s blue Kagune.

Yomo bites back a scream opting to allowing his mouth to dangle open in a silent wail. His knees tremble in an attempt to keep him upright as his body is plagued with unimaginable pain. He stumbles back as the boy smiles viciously and yanks his Kagune out Yomo’s body and prepared to stab Yomo again. Yomo is prepared to jump back.

That is until he watches the boy’s face freeze wide with terror as he stares at Yomo. Then with a sickening cough, blood bursts from his lips in clots all over Yomo’s body. He then begins to hyperventilate his nostrils opening and closing as he drags air into his lungs. Yomo’s wide eyes slowly trace down to the bloodied hand and forearm sticking straight through where the boy’s heart should be located. The body coughs again, more of his blood spattering out on to Yomo’s face.

“You….b-bastard.” The boy growls out as his Kakugan slowly fades back to his natural blue eyes again.

Yomo watches as his body sags, the only thing keeping the boy upright is the arm through its chest. Yomo hears the voice that belongs to the arm curse and toss the lifeless body into the wall of the building beside them. Blood his pouring from his body in various places in thick rivers of blood, the air chokingly full of the metallic scent. Yomo offhandedly hears slow footsteps approaching him at a leisurely pace, his instincts screaming for him to run. But due to the fact most of the blood in his body is now in a puddle around him, Yomo can only wait to see his… god forbid the word…savior.

“You're a fucking idiot, you know that?” A deep voice asks from above him. Yomo’s doesn’t need his blurry vision to know who the person behind him was. Uta stands with his usual slouched back, his Kakugan eyes nearly glowing in the dark alley. Yomo notes Uta’s dripping arm, the blood of his assailant covering it in a slick slather.

“Over-thinking things is how you get eaten.” Yomo replied from his uncomfortable place on the ground where he happened to be bleeding out slowly.

“So you are expecting me to carry you, I’m guessing?” Uta asked his voice jokingly condescending. Yomo smirks despite his current situation and looks up through his narrowed. They were still black due to the fact he was to weak to retreat his Kagune and return his eyes back to normal.

Uta shook his head at Yomo’s lack of an answer before stooping down and throwing the gigantic man over his shoulder. If he wasn’t in so much pain, Yomo would have laughed at how comical it was that such a small man was able to carry another nearly double his size.

“I hope you don’t mind the brats blood on you, wouldn’t want to mess up one of your thousands of plain black t-shirts.” Uta jokes even though he knew Yomo wouldn’t find it humorous.

Crouching, Uta jumped up and scaled the building above them, the apartment building’s gruff brick siding making it easy to climb even though he had almost 180 pounds of ghoul on his shoulder. The night was cool after the torrential downpour only hours before. The air was thick without the humidity, something Uta was thankful for. Uta moved at a blurring rate, the city nothing more than a smudge beside them. Yomo bit his lip in an attempt not to let out pained noises with each bump or jostled Uta delivered to his body.

The wind whistles in Uta’s ears as he sprints in the direction of his one bedroom apartment on the upper east side of the 4th ward. Seeing as Yomo had decided to almost be killed less than 20 minutes away, the distance was lessened greatly.

Yomo was silent until the moment Uta landed on his balcony. The smell of spices wafted from the open sliding door signaling Uta was using his incenses again. It was open like the last person to exit was in a hurry which was fitting due to the fact it was true. Uta’s feet hit the ground gracefully absolutely no sound giving hint of his arrival. Calmly he walks into his home making sure not to bang Yomo around too much.

“Try not to bleed on my floors until I get you into the bathtub.” Uta said his voice the normal bored tone he used almost constantly. Yomo shook his head and struggled until he was put down. Brushing his red stained hair out of his face, Yomo stands on his own shaky feet.

“Thank you Uta,” Yomo sighs his voice strong and deep despite his extensive wounds. He tries to avoid having to say such words, but I this situation he has no choice. Uta shakes his head causing his gold spectacles to catch the light.

“Even with a gigantic hole in your stomach, you still refuse to admit you need help.” He said with a hint of exasperation before turning his back. He walked towards his bathroom. The least the bastard could do was say it with a bit more conviction! He did just literally save his ass.  
He flipped the light on in the small room, the bright lights causing his pupils to shrink. Just as he was bending to grab the first aid kit under the sink, he heard a loud thump from the living room, and immediately realizes what caused it.

“God fucking damnit,” He growls as he sprints out of the tiled room, turning the corner sharply and stuttering to a stop. Red was everywhere near Yomo’s fallen form and Uta could tell from his view point that the ghoul was struggling to breathe. Uta hurries and crouches next to his friend, his hands shaking Yomo’s shoulder. “Get the fuck up, you know you can’t sleep with such deep wounds. Next thing I know you’re fucking dead in my living room.” Uta said his voice a bit to high pitched for his own personal liking. When Yomo didn’t stir, Uta growls every curse known to man. He had been trying to avoid this but none the less; he rushes to his fridge where the last of his food was packaged. Quickly ripping open the small Tupperware bowl of eyes, Uta sprints back to Yomo.

Later when Uta thinks backs to this night, he always refused to admit that his hands were shaking as he pushed each eyeball past Yomo’s lips. He would refuse the tight panic in his chest as he waited for Yomo to show the barest hints of consciousness. He watched Yomo’s throat work to swallow the small flesh balls. Uta quickly went to Yomo’s shredded black t-shirt even though it is more scraps than an actually article of clothing by now. With a quick yank, Uta ripped the sad excuse for a shirt straight down the middle so he could see the extent of the wounds.

Smooth plains of hard muscle covered Yomo’s upper body from his stiff pectorals to the thick muscles of his biceps. Uta would usually take a second to admire this once in a lifetime sight but the huge holes in his shoulder and stomach looked pretty fucking gnarly, his first priority is to make sure he doesn’t die.

Getting up, Uta goes to grab his first aid kit ion his immaculate bathroom. He probably could have saved time if he had grabbed it when he went in there earlier but seeing as he heard Yomo’s body hit the ground like an earthquake he hadn’t thought to grab it. He knows regular human needles wouldn’t pierce ghoul flesh, so a long time ago he had broken off a few pieces of one of his friend’s Kagune to use for emergencies like this. Grabbing one of the small make shift needles and dissolving stitches, Uta began his jagged work of sewing up his friend.

The first few stitches were tough to due since he was still figuring out the amount of pressure he needed to use with each swipe. But by the time he finished the hole in his middle and moved on to his shoulder, Uta had gotten the hang of it.

Soon enough, the wounds began to heal themselves, the flesh slowly knitting back together. Uta watched as he last bit of blood dried, and the holes were nothing more than pale silver scars. Cleaning up his mess, Uta jogged back to the bathroom only to grab a rag and fill up the metal that was under his sink with warm water. Being careful not to spill its contents, Uta sets the bucket down by Yomo.

Dipping the rag into the water, Uta makes sure to ring it out before he began to wipe Yomo’s broad chest. Soon enough the rag was blood red Uta was had to rinse it out only to repeat the process until Yomo was 80% blood free.

Uta finished up and officially put everything away before going back into his living room. Yomo had regained some natural color in his pale face, but Uta knew he couldn’t just leave him on the floor. For the second time that night, he picked up Yomo. If he had been a normal human with his small frame, it would have been a joke to try and pick up something as big as Yomo.

If Yomo was awake, he would have punched Uta in the face because of the fact the smaller ghoul was carrying him bridal style. Without breaking a sweat Uta carried Yomo into his own bedroom. He hated the fact he had to ruin his black silk sheets with this assholes blood, but since he refused to ruin his white couch. He himself hardly sat on the expensive piece of furniture in fear of fucking it so he’d be damned if he was going to let Yomo’s bloody ass pop a squat there. He already ruined his carpet.

Yomo owed him big this go-around.

Uta sat his body down gently after he tossed the comforter back. He had forgotten to wash the blood out of his hair so his pillow cases were fucked now too. Being the good-Samaritan he was, Uta tucked the large man in making sure he looked comfortable and that his neck wasn’t at an awkward angle. Quickly making a cup of water, Uta sets it by the bed for whenever the ogre wakes he can wash the taste of his own blood out of his mouth. Grimacing at the thought of the taste, Uta walks out and shuts the door quietly.

He ignores the tights pull in his chest at the thought of Yomo in his bed alone. He would never say it out loud, but Yomo’s fights took a toll on Uta. With the worry that one of these days the wounds that littered his large pale body won’t heal or that he’d finally get the call form Itori that he’d never get to see Yomo’s big stone-like glare or his beautiful silver locks again. Each time it made Uta’s throat close. It wasn’t a thought he liked to entertain often.


End file.
